


gutted on the altar of your glory (a ferrari driver’s eulogy)

by LadySpearWife



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Character Study, Gen, In the light of recent Ferrari drama, Introspection, Is Ferrari’s massive teammate problem a tag yet, Mentions of Michael’s influence in Ferrari mentality, Mentions of other Ferrari drivers, No one is bad except this scuderia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:27:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 740
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25110877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadySpearWife/pseuds/LadySpearWife
Summary: He wonders if he should bring it up, the growing favoritism.
Relationships: Charles Leclerc & Sebastian Vettel
Comments: 41
Kudos: 62





	gutted on the altar of your glory (a ferrari driver’s eulogy)

It’s not an intentional development.

And it’s not even  _gradual_.

Sebastian wakes up one morning to find out that smiles shine a little brighter to Charles when he walks into Maranello in this faded picture of a day. Simple as that.

He doesn’t think Charles even realizes, truth be told.

For such a  _brilliant_ kid, he’s awfully simplistic. As long as his team isn’t undermining him, there is nothing wrong. Ferrari’s political chess is lost on him. Sebastian knows more nuance – has had to learn to survive in this glorified, gold-tinted, champagne-sweet piranha pond.

Charles will learn.

Not now, though. Today is for eating spicy chicken and salad and discussing which colors he should paint his walls.  _Too much white,_ Charles says sheepishly, cutting a bite-sized piece of his food and promptly forgetting about it to fish his phone and show him options.

Sebastian is partial to baby blue.

_ No red?  _ he asks, laughing into his glass of lukewarm water. It’s a joke that only makes sense in Ferrari.

Charles wrinkles his nose.

_ God, no. _

It’s against team’s spirit, and Sebastian tells him so. But then, many things are against Ferrari’s spirit – the trick is not caring.

They have lunch together.

And they don’t talk about racing.

That too is against the team’s spirit.

In Maranello, people look at Charles like he’s  _holy_ – il predestinato, Sebastian muses, watching lines and lines of telemetry reveal their sins and mistakes. His sins and mistakes. He wonders if he should bring it up, the growing favoritism.

(Red Bull years are fated.

Or maybe _he_ made them so by virtue of – well, you know.

Sebastian wonders if he should phone Mark now they are in speaking terms again.  _Help, I’ve become memorabilia and I’m not ready to accept that yet_.  He’s sure it’d delight the bastard.

Or maybe Daniel.

The cycle comes full circle.

Like Sebastian said –

_Fated._ )

Mattia tells him he’s invaluable piece of the team for as long as he wants a part there. In this bloodsport of a scuderia, more legacy than hope for the future.

It’s hard to love Ferrari, though.

Takes a heart that can be thrown on the ground and spat at.

(Charles wears adoration with red overalls, and Sebastian almost sighs  _kid, that’s stupid._ It’s not his place to question the loyalty beaten into someone who has never had any other team, though. And certainly not his mission to stop that foolhardy, ambitious desire to be the one who fixes and heals this wounded animal of a team.)

Besides, Mattia was Michael’s engineer before team principal.

Race engine engineer, yes, but –

It says more about him than it says about Michael.

Mostly because everything to be said about Michael has already been said – seven titles, the 1997 season, mind games, practicality, blatant team favoritism.

And that last one –

There’s no Ferrari without politics, of course. It’s an awfully  _Italian_ team, a tiny part of its nation into itself, and he’s not surprised that it twists and turns in melodic cadences of agreements and other unpleasant things. All its turn are born out of legacy and team orders.

(Fuck Enzo Ferrari, in a way.)

Sebastian wonders idly about Rubens in 2002, Austria.

Felipe, too.

_Fernando is faster than you._

( _Let Sebastian by_ morphing into  _Sebastian will let you by_.)

Thinks that maybe he should call Kimi and rant about the state of his team. But Ferrari years stretch wide and strange between them, full of friendship but also an underlying awareness that one of them was going to be used as a shield, should there be need of sacrifice.

It’s Ferrari.

There’s  always need of sacrifice.

And it’s never been Sebastian.

Charles laughs warmly and calls him an old man without a hint of anything but a harmless joke. He lives in that uncomfortable duality of wanting to win and wishing Sebastian the best. It’s sweet.

He can’t help but feel sick.

Kimi deserves a nicer Christmas card for all the years he’s been called a second pilot, a wingman, and a retiree. Sebastian has been there for one day, and it  _sucks_.

Charles should at least have the decency to be a bastard about it if he’s going to jeopardize Sebastian’s place by merely existing in the same team. By doing what he should and nothing else. Being so nice and common makes it hard to find him insufferable and a prick.

Ferrari years are fated too.

**Author's Note:**

> being a ferrari fan is nothing but drama and then more drama. this team only disappoints. at the least the aesthetic is on point tho
> 
> i’d give my firstborn for a comment not even kidding
> 
> please tell me if you find any mistakes/typos i wrote this one on my phone

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * A [Restricted Work] by [scarletred](https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletred/pseuds/scarletred) Log in to view. 




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